In Absentia
by spyder-m
Summary: "Every moment they had shared together, every bond they had forged was gone; yet his memories of her remained intact. The world was holding her at a distance from him, daring him to reach out and cross the threshold." New game plus, Makoto (re)awakening her Persona. Originally written for Day 3 of Shumako Week: Distance.


In Absentia

She was shadowing him again.

Morgana had spotted her from his bag one day. Trailing closely behind as they made their way out of Shibuya station.

Ren had already known, of course. After all, it was around June, right after they'd changed Madarame's heart.

Just like before.

The first time, Ren had been surprised.

With his Third Eye growing stronger after every use, and their time spent crawling through palaces overrun by Shadows, Ren had noticed her easily.

Not that the prim student council president was particularly well hidden, with her face buried behind a thick manga volume.

He'd have thought someone of her apparent intelligence could come up with a subtler way of tailing them.

His lips pulled into a smile, a familiar, flutter of warmth rising in his chest.

Having grown closer to her over the course of a year, he'd come to learn that it was a glimpse into a side of Makoto not many people knew. Makoto who was endearing and, despite her studies, in many ways, quite unfamiliar with the world.

It was the side of her he had come to fall for.

He wondered if there was a part of her that had, to some degree, enjoyed the prospect of staking out the Phantom Thieves. As if it was something out of Like a Dragon, or one of those detective novels she loved so much.

Though, the memory brought Ren pain, almost as much as it did happiness; serving as a reminder of what he'd lost the first time around.

Every moment they had shared together, every bond they had forged was gone; yet his memories of her remained intact.

The world was holding her at a distance from him, daring him to reach out and cross the threshold. It took every ounce of restraint within Ren to not approach her.

Things needed to play out as they had before.

His heart was aching to hold her like he had that night Crossroads, or on the couch in his room. To tease her and watch her face break into its adorable pout. To be her study partner.

But, they didn't know each other like that. Not yet.

He had only spoken to her briefly in the library, watching her carefully across from the study desks. Pretending as thought he'd been staring into space if his gaze lingered too long and their eyes met.

He could faintly sense the voice inside. The strangled calls of her true self, desperate to find its way out. The potential had always existed inside her, to fight against the injustices hidden in plain sight. But she was still too afraid, too weighed down by feelings of helplessness, too pressured stay the course set out before her.

Having already experienced it once before, Ren truly understood the depths of her struggle. Feeling much more patient and tolerant of her presence than Ann or Ryuji.

.

The transfer student was definitely suspicious. That much Makoto was certain of.

There had always been rumours of abuse surrounding Kamoshida. The physical condition of his volleyball team, his altercation with Sakamoto. But because of the reputation he afforded the school, people kept quiet.

It wasn't until Amamiya-kun turned up and was threatened with expulsion that something changed. Even Makoto, who had held suspicions, had been powerless to do anything.

Despite his quiet disposition, he stood out.

He spent most of his time with Sakamoto and Takamaki, two of Kamoshida's victims. With Takamaki also being close to Suzui; the second-year who had tried to take her own life under the anguish of the volleyball coach's abuse.

The motive was there.

Makoto had no doubt that those three were the Phantom Thieves.

But for now, all the evidence she had was circumstantial. She needed something solid if she wanted to secure her letter of recommendation from Principal Kobayakowa.

Sakamoto was pretty loud. Perhaps if she set her phone to record, she could catch them in the act. But she would need to be careful.

The transfer student seemed much craftier than he left on.

"Niijima-senpai? Is there something I can help you with?"

Makoto's stomach lurched, startled by the sudden, instrusive voice. She stumbled, almost losing her footing and the grip on her manga.

"A-Amamiya-kun. My, what a coincidence."

He watched her with a wry smirk, dark, messy bangs casting shadows over his eyeline. Makoto flushed, the intensity of his gaze penetrating through her, her words holding little weight. Had he known she was there the entire time?

He extended his hand, offering to help right her.

"Are you alright? You should be more careful."

"O- Oh. I simply lost track of where I was going. I was just enjoying this manga too much."

Cocking his head, Amamiya reached out, clasping the book by its spine and gently prying it from her hands. Makoto, though taken back, didn't resist, her grip easily loosening. Strangely, for all her suspicion, all the gossip surrounding him, Makoto felt as though she could trust him.

With a chuckle, he turned the manga right-side up before returning it back to her grasp.

"I'll bet you were."

Their fingers brushed momentarily, the sensation jolting through Makoto's entire body. It seemed to pull at something deep within her. The spark of a memory. Faint whispers of those same fingers, catching in her hair, and caressing her cheek.

His voice broke through her reverie, rooting her back to the present.

"I'll see you soon, Makoto." He uttered.

Makoto swallowed as he turned to leave; a flurry of thoughts overwhelming her.

She had been so engrossed in tailing Amamiya that she hadn't noticed that she had been holding the manga volume had been upside down. The mistake had completely given her away.

Somehow though, despite catching her, Amamiya hadn't seemed upset. It was strange. The rumours had painted him as short-tempered, likely to lash out at anyone who so much as looked at him the wrong way.

Yet, his expression, his entire demeanour seemed... light-hearted and playful. There was an intimate, teasing nature to his actions, one that surprised her.

Perhaps the most baffling was the way that he had addressed her, his senior, in such a familiar, informal manner. It was disrespectful, improper. Yet, somehow it stirred fondness rather than anger within her.

Makoto's cheeks darkened, embarrassment seeping into her skin. She normally prided herself on being collected and mature, an example for her peers and kohai. How was it he managed to fluster her so easily?

The sensation, oddly, wasn't entirely alien. It held a familiarity, a longing from deep inside her

Perhaps what stood most of all, was the way her name carried so naturally from his lips; as if he'd said it a thousand times before.

There was a look in his eyes of genuine adoration as he spoke, an expression she'd almost lost of sense of. It was one that existed in the deepest recesses of her memory, only to have faded with them. She could see it in the warmth of her father, of an earlier, almost ethereal vision of her sister; long lost. It had been so long since she could remember such affection being directed at her.

The gesture felt undeserved, as if misplaced. In a sense, it was. Intended not for her, but the things she would do, the person she would become.

With an exhale, Makoto dusted herself off, slipping the book into her bag.

Her fingers were still tingling from where he his hand had touched them.

.

In an instant, it all came flooding back.

The sensation that had started as trickle was now flowing freely through Makoto, as the voice spoke clearly to her.

Power. The means with which to finally rise against the injustice that lorded over her.

It returned to her.

The engine roared into life as Makoto cut through shadows with a cloud of Frei. Her persona shifted easily beneath her, as she turned and weaved with precision.

Noticing she had brought the others enough time to regroup, Makoto turned back to join them. Skidding to a halt right beside Joker, she slid perfectly into formation.

As the flames engulfing her simmered out and she raised her fists, Makoto found Joker through her periphery and felt her breath hitch.

The stark white of his mask accentuated the wonder, the utter adoration coating his intense, grey orbs. Ren could hardly contain the relief, the joy that flooded through him as Makoto awoke, finally finding herself again.

The same eyes that had been such an enigma to her, Makoto recognised. The expression she couldn't quite place and had filled her with doubt, now felt honest, genuine, as though reaching to her very core.

Slowly, gradually, the pieces fell back into place.

Overwhelmed, Makoto could feel her own throat tightening, and eyes beginning to bead.

For a moment, amidst the turmoil that surrounded them, they stepped towards one another, determined to cross the threshold that persisted for so long.

It was exhilarating, freeing. To have finally severed the chains that held her in place.

To have finally returned to her true self.


End file.
